


Right of Refusal

by biblionerd07



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5 Things, Angst, Bucky and Steve arguing, Bucky saying no, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Maybe? Just a teeny bit, Post-CA:TWS, Recovery, isn't everything with Bucky at least a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Bucky said no, plus one time he said yes and no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right of Refusal

“Hey, Buck, I’m gonna go get some milk. Wanna come?” Steve’s heading to the door and, Bucky notes with dissatisfaction, he’s wearing his usual old-man khakis that somehow accomplish the herculean feat of making his ass look completely average.

“Nah.” Bucky goes back to his book, _Growing for Freedom: The Steve Rogers Story_ , before realizing what he’s said and freezing. Bucky has been living with Steve for two months, after three months in a secure SHIELD facility in intense therapy. In all that time, Steve’s been meticulous in phrasing every suggestion as a question, so Bucky always knows he’s not under orders and is always free to refuse, but so far Bucky’s never said no; either Bucky’s been too apathetic to care or he’s always felt like he should say yes to repay Steve for putting up with him. But he just reflexively turned down an offer from Steve, and what if Steve is—

Steve laughs loudly in surprised delight. “You said no!” He crows.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky asks in a small voice. Steve stops laughing and crosses the room to the couch in two quick steps. He presses a hand to the top of Bucky’s head.

“Of course I’m not mad, you dope,” he says fondly. “I’m so excited you’re finally doing what you want, Buck. Even if what you want to do is read ridiculous books.”

Bucky ducks his head a little, shyer now than he’d ever been before, but he’s smiling. “Thanks, Steve.”

Steve’s happy eyes settle on his face a second longer and then he sort of shakes himself and heads back to the door. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Bucky murmurs his understanding and goes back to his book. “Wait!” He yells just as Steve’s closing the door, and of course Steve flings it back open.

“What is it?” He asks, all earnest eyes and solicitous concern.

“Can you buy some more Oreos, too?”

Steve rolls his eyes and closes the door.

 

“I didn’t know we were watching a movie,” Steve says worriedly, glancing quickly at Bucky and then trying to pretend he hadn’t. Bucky knows Steve has been very thorough in researching every movie option Bucky could come across to make sure nothing freaks him out, though he’s tried to keep it secret. Now Sam’s springing a movie on them and Steve can’t disagree and still pretend he’s not figuratively hovering over Bucky.

“Hey, man, you got something against movies?” Sam has an eyebrow raised in a way that means he knows exactly what Steve’s worried about and is doing this on purpose. Sam’s been a tremendous help to Bucky’s recovery, and at least half of that comes from the way he takes care of Steve, too.

“Uh…” Steve licks his lips uncomfortably, feeling guilty about being caught.

“You want to pick?” Sam asks, holding a few DVDs out to Bucky. Bucky looks at the offerings, then flicks a glance over to Steve, who’s looking over his shoulder. Because it’s Sam and Sam knows what he’s doing, none of the movies sound like they house anything triggering, like brainwashing or explosions or intelligent robots or animal mistreatment or people getting shot or bullied or frozen or going hungry or being stranded in the desert (Bucky and Steve have a lot of triggers between them, and Sam has a few of his own), but Steve still has a faintly pained expression on his face.

He’s clearly worried about a repeat of the great _Lion King_ fiasco, which ended in two couch cushions being ripped to shreds and he and Bucky locking themselves in their room for two hours, refusing to come out, with Bucky wailing _the bad guy made him kill the person he loved the most_ and Steve murmuring thickly _he had to remember who he was_. Disney had sure gotten heavier since their day.

“No,” Bucky says finally, and Steve and Sam both look at him questioningly. “I don’t want to watch a movie.” The look Sam gives him is halfway between pride and exasperation—proud that he’s using his autonomy but exasperated that he’s doing so to give Steve an out—but Bucky doesn’t care. The smile Steve’s shooting his way is like pure sunshine, and he feels warm all the way to his bones.

 

“There’s everyone’s favorite robot,” Tony says when Bucky walks into the lab. “Sorry, Dum-E,” he adds. “You are no one’s favorite robot.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother with _I’m not a robot_. He’s never bothered with it, though Steve still gets upset when he hears Tony say it, which led to a quiet and vaguely threatening conversation between Tony and Bucky about how Tony can say whatever he wants about Bucky but he will not say anything that will hurt Steve’s feelings while Steve is present. It is sometimes very helpful to be an infamous assassin with a cybernetic arm.

“Here you go, delicious, nutritious protein shake to sip at while I scan the arm.” Tony hands him a tankard-sized glass full of a commercial protein shake.

“No.” Bucky’s lips twist a little at the sight of it. Tony’s head snaps up.

“What?”

“I don’t want it,” Bucky says stubbornly, not even caring that he sounds a little childish.

“It fulfills all the doc’s orders about your caloric and protein intake needs.” Tony sounds confused.

“I don’t like how it tastes.” Bucky can’t help how petulant he sounds. Tony stares for another minute.

“You’ve been drinking it every week for five months while I check your arm,” he reminds Bucky slowly.

“I’ve never liked how it tastes,” Bucky reveals. “And I don’t want to drink it.”

An expression Bucky can’t really read passes onto Tony’s face, but he thinks it might be amusement and—maybe?—some kind of happiness. Bucky thinks he’d be able to parse through it if it were Steve, but he doesn’t know Tony well enough and the man’s facial expressions change so rapidly Bucky sometimes has trouble keeping up.

“Well.” Tony claps his hands together. “Our little assassin’s all grown up, huh? There’s three other flavors. Go pick one.”

 

“Oh, this style is very in fashion,” the store attendant coos as she holds up a shirt for Bucky to inspect. He glances over at Natalia—no, Natasha—who gives an almost imperceptible shake of the head, the grimace on her face so slight Bucky knows it’s for his eyes only. But the girl is smiling at Bucky and she looks so hopeful that Bucky can’t bring himself to say no when she’s standing right there. Plus he and Steve had watched a documentary a few nights ago about the plight of workers who earned money based on commission and what if she can’t pay her rent if Bucky doesn’t buy the ugly shirt? He is, apparently, rich now; he can afford an extra shirt. Besides, Steve has plenty of ugly clothes.

“Thank you.” He accepts the shirt and Natasha rolls her eyes slightly. Finally, the attendant “leaves them to it” and goes to push ugly clothes on someone else. Natasha plucks the offending shirt from Bucky’s pile and stashes it on a rack as they head toward the fitting rooms.

Natasha starts to follow Bucky into the stall and he feels a small thrill of dread in the pit of his stomach. It’s not that he’s modest, necessarily, and it’s not like Natasha hasn’t seen people covered in scars before, but Bucky spent seventy years being examined and undressed and watched constantly. His bedroom door has a lock on it, but he’s never dared to use it. Bucky steels himself as Natasha starts to close the door, and she notices. (Of course she does. He would.)

“Are you comfortable with me coming in here?” She asks clearly, and Bucky is reminded that for all her cool detachment, she can be incredibly tactful. He hesitates slightly and then shakes his head _no_ , ducking his head apologetically. She taps one finger on his shoulder until he looks up so he can see her face doesn’t hold a shred of anger or annoyance.

“I’ll be waiting out there.” She points to the chairs outside the doors. “Come show me how everything looks.”

 

Bucky’s never met Thor. The last time the Asgardian was in New York, Bucky was in a padded cell. (It wasn’t actually padded, but apparently that’s a figure of speech these days.) He’s come to Earth a few times since Bucky’s been living with Steve, but stayed in London with Jane. But now Thor is visiting Avenger’s Tower, bringing Jane to meet everyone, and Steve is excited for Bucky to meet him.

“Once you meet Thor, you’ll know everyone I know!” Steve declares happily. Bucky finds it incredibly endearing but also incredibly dorky that Steve wants them both to know and befriend everyone the other does. It’s not hard for Steve to know everyone Bucky knows; the only people Bucky interacts with are the Avengers, Sam, SHIELD people, and therapists. Oh, and the hot dog stand guy. But it’s been a two-month quest for Bucky to meet everyone Steve knows, and he’d only narrowly escaped Steve introducing him to every senator Steve had ever shaken hands with in the future.

Thor is loud and cheerful and Bucky likes him, though he thinks he’s not quite ready to spend a lot of time with him yet. He still gets overstimulated pretty easily, and Thor is a bit… _overwhelming_. Still, Steve is shooting these excited little grins at Bucky, so he sticks it out for as long as he can.

“And we met a boy who can create ice, so we’re hoping to gain some technological insight into ice weapons,” Jane wraps up a story about their trip to the school that helps train mutants in using their powers safely.

“Ice weapons?” Tony, of course, is immediately intrigued.

“We think, with his help, we could figure out a way to make some sort of…freeze guns, or something, but not quite complete freezing, so that it wouldn’t kill them,” Jane continues enthusiastically. “It would help with capturing people without hurting them, so you could question them or hand them over to the authorities.”

Bucky’s mouth goes dry at the thought of a gun that could freeze people. It doesn’t escape his notice that Steve tenses beside him, too, though it’s so slight it escapes everyone else.

“But how would you guarantee the freezing and thawing process wouldn’t do too much damage to their cells?” Bruce asks. “Wouldn’t it be incredibly painful?” He looks unsettled by the whole idea.

“It would probably take too long and be too dangerous for them to thaw naturally, so we’d need to develop some kind of thaw gun, as well, one that could control those things.” Jane, Tony, and Bruce keep talking about the cellular impact of ice on the body and Bucky can hear Steve’s breathing picking up slightly. Ice is a tricky subject for the both of them. Bucky knows Steve won’t interrupt the conversation, even when he’s panicking internally, to make himself feel better. He’s probably never even told his friends that ice still freaks him out, and he’s having a lot of trouble with drowning again since falling from the hellicarrier. And Bucky’s struggling to stay in the present with all this talk of freezing people and thawing them out and an _experimentation process_.

“No.” Bucky is as surprised as anyone else to hear his own voice join the conversation and by how strong it is. Everyone turns to stare at him and he flushes a little. “You shouldn’t make an ice gun,” he plows forward. When he chances a look at Steve, he sees how pale Steve looks. Everyone else must notice, too, because Bruce suddenly looks stricken. Steve definitely hasn’t told them.

“It wouldn’t be the same as what happened to Cap,” Tony protests carefully. “He froze naturally.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Bucky reminds the table, and the room goes silent. “Steve and I are the only ones here who know how it feels to freeze and thaw. And it’s…” Bucky pauses, biting his lip.

“Terrible,” Steve supplies quietly. “Beyond terrible. I wasn’t even awake the whole time,” he admits. “I passed out before I froze completely, and I only had to do it the one time, but Bucky...”

“I was awake,” Bucky agrees, staring down at his half-empty plate. Steve’s hand finds his under the table and gives him a quick squeeze. “I was awake when I froze. Every time. You can’t—you’re the good guys.” He sounds almost plaintive.

“We wouldn’t be using it against innocent people,” Jane says gently. Bucky thinks of being shoved into the tank, thinks of the cold stealing his breath and freezing his lungs and seeping into every inch of him, the way he’d wake up with his mouth open after they thawed him because he’d been screaming when he froze, the stabbing pain of heat suddenly coming back, the agony of feeling returning to his limbs, the patches of his skin that still couldn’t register sensation for hours afterward until his increased healing took care of it.

“It’s torture.” He wants to sound firm but instead his voice breaks and Steve exhales loudly, gripping Bucky’s hand so tightly it hurts.

“It probably really is,” Bruce agrees. “I mean, legally speaking. And if not legally, morally. I agree with Bucky and Steve.”

“As do I,” Thor admits solemnly. “If we’re not strong enough to capture our enemies honestly, we don’t deserve to capture them at all.”

Later, Jane pulls Bucky aside and apologizes quietly, telling him she hadn’t known what had happened to him and hadn’t realized what a difficult thing it would be for him and Steve to hear. He manages to muster up a smile and tells her not to worry. No one speaks of an ice gun again.

 

Steve and Bucky are watching Animal Planet one Friday night, trying to decide on what kind of pizza to order and skipping through any footage of the animals being hurt. Too often, animal cruelty reminds Bucky of being treated as an animal, and he knows Steve thinks about the feral snarl Bucky used to wear when he first came back. They stick to the shows about animals saving people from burning buildings.

Neither of them are really paying that much attention to the TV; their discussion of the kind of pizza to get is rapidly devolving into an incredibly petty argument. It’s been a long week, and they’ve been snipping at each other all day, because Steve suggested Bucky take some classes at the college and Bucky said no, and Steve is annoyed that Bucky doesn’t want to leave the house and Bucky is annoyed that Steve wants him out of the way. Of course, neither of them are admitting this is why they’re upset, so instead they’re picking at one another for things they don’t actually care about, like Bucky putting the couch cushions back upside down after he’d vacuumed and Steve putting his feet on the coffee table.

“Have you ever even _tried_ Hawaiian pizza?” Steve asks, exasperation starting to give way to actual irritation.

“I’ve been to Hawaii, Steve, and I didn’t see one person eating pineapple on their pizza,” Bucky counters. He’s 80% sure both parts of that statement are true.

“It’s not about the _name_ ,” Steve says with gritted teeth, and if Bucky didn’t already know they were actually arguing about something else he’d know it now, because Bucky’s pretty sure calling it _Hawaiian pizza_ just because of the pineapple isn’t politically correct or whatever and Steve’s normally not the type to dismiss that.

“Look, pal, I didn’t spend seventy years being frozen and tortured to be forced to eat fruit on my pizza!” Bucky lashes out with a low blow and Steve snarls.

“God, you can be so insufferable,” Steve spits. “How could I ever think I missed this part of you?”

“Oh, what part, the _autonomous_ part?” Bucky sneers, using his therapist’s words that Steve’s spent two months carefully parroting at him.

“The asshole part!”

“Just because I won’t hop to and follow your orders and be your little puppet like everyone else—”

“I don’t want you to be my puppet! I’m glad no is your favorite word now but—”

“But not when you’re not getting your own way. You want me to—”

“I just want you to be happy!” Steve’s voice cracks enough to shut Bucky up and they stare at one another for a tense minute.

“I am happy,” Bucky finally breaks the silence.

“That wasn’t very convincing.” Steve tries to crack a smile but he just looks like he’s going to cry.

“Well, I’ve _been_ happy,” Bucky insists. He has to look away from Steve to say the next part. “’Til I wore out my welcome.”

“What?” Steve gapes. “Why would you think you wore out your welcome?”

“You’re trying to get me out of the way.” Bucky makes himself shrug, still very intent on the carpet. “I mean, come on, Stevie. If you want me to go at least be man enough to say it.”

Steve covers his face with his hands for a second and then drops them to his lap with a deep breath. “I don’t want you to go. Buck. Look at me.”

Bucky raises his chin, almost defiantly, but any hard feelings melt when he sees Steve’s face. Steve looks wrecked, and Steve doesn’t know how to lie, so Bucky knows it’s genuine.

“You’re always telling me to go out,” Bucky says in a small voice. “I thought you were tired of me always hanging around. Getting in your way. Thought you were sick of me.”

Steve pitches forward and pulls Bucky in for a hug; before the war it was usually the other way around, but right now Steve can see the doubt on Bucky’s face and it almost physically pains him.

“Buck, you love learning new things. Always have. I just thought you’d like getting to go back to school. You never got to go to college.” Steve’s voice is muffled from the way he’s pressing his face into Bucky’s shoulder. “I’ll never get sick of you,” he promises and Bucky winces a little because he can feel his throat getting tight. He always used to be able to fight the tears, but lately all his emotions are just…bigger. Harder for him to control. His eyes are getting hot and his breath hitches a little and Steve pushes back to look at him and Bucky thinks it’s maybe okay that he’s being a big crybaby because Steve’s eyes look a little shiny, too.

Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s face and Bucky closes his eyes with a little sigh as Steve begins to stroke his cheekbone. “Hey, Buck?” Steve asks softly. “You're real good at saying no to things you don’t want now, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” Bucky opens his eyes to shoot Steve a questioning look.

“So tell me no if you don’t want to.” Steve licks his lips and Bucky feels anticipation clench his stomach.

“You gonna kiss me?” He asks, calling up all his cockiness from before the war.

“Do you want me to?” Steve gives him a little half-smile and actually looks _nervous_. What a dope.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. He considers just pulling Steve in and getting to business himself, but instead lets Steve take the lead. The half-smile grows to a full smile and then that full smile is pressed against Bucky’s and they can’t even really kiss because their lips are too busy grinning like fools, but it doesn’t take long for them to get real into it.

“Hey, Buck?” Steve pants.

“You gonna talk through this whole thing?”

“Just, uh, you want me to stop?” Steve asks, his lips going to Bucky’s neck, and Bucky arches into Steve and his new favorite word comes out as a growl.

“ _No_.”


End file.
